Harry Potter and the SemiTruck
by Evil Little Angel
Summary: A spoof of the upcoming conclusion to the Harry Potter series. Rated T for mild violence and nonexplicit romance.
1. Bye Bye Dursleys

**Disclaimer: The last time I checked, I was not J.K. Rowling. And as far as I know, things haven't changed. Meaning I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Harry Potter and the Semi-Truck**

_A spoof of the upcoming conclusion to J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter Series_

BYE BYE, DURSLEYS

Among all the other cars pulling out of King's Cross station, Uncle Vernon's was no more unusual than any other. Indeed, nothing about the return trip to number four Privet Drive suggested anything out of the ordinary. Even as Harry was led past the perfect lawn, down the clean walkway, and onto the white porch, he never suspected anything more than a few hours at the Dursley's before setting off to the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Even if Harry had believed the Dursleys were up to something, instead of pondering the whereabouts of Lord Voldemort's remaining Horkruxes or plotting revenge on the Dursleys with his newfound freedom of wand use, nothing could have prepared him for what lay on the other side of the unassuming front door.

As Harry walked through the doorway, he stopped short in amazement. The front hall had been painted a silvery olive green colour, with matching spangled cloths draped over every oddly shaped piece of furniture and over every stained glass window. Tiny silver stars and crescent moons were hung from the ceiling with fine silver wire. A large dragon statue sat adjacent to the door, its horns adorned with several pointed hats. Harry could only gape until a velvet-clad Aunt Petunia bustled into the room.

"Harry dear, it's so good to see you", she crooned. Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Hasn't your Uncle told you?" she gasped, reading his expression. Harry shook his head. " Little Diddikins is a wizard too, we found out just a few weeks ago while you were at school. His talents been a bit slow to surface, so we've pulled him out of his old school and enrolled him in_ Late Occlumens and Spellcaster's Educational Restricted School."_

" Late Occlumens and Spellcaster's Educational Restricted School…" Vernon murmured," Hey, doesn't that spell…"

" Dudley will start there in the fall" interrupted Aunt Petunia " As you're already a qualified wizard, we thought you could show him a few tricks. Come on, follow me…"

It was all Harry could do to stumble, dumbstruck, after his Aunt. '_This must be a dream, he thought, I've fallen asleep in Vernon's car, I….'_But what he saw in the kitchen was enough to silence him in mid-thought. Above the kitchen table were two large framed portraits of his mother and father. The figures in the portraits were waving and smiling down at the occupants of the kitchen, like has-been actresses in corny toothpaste commercials. Harry was engrossed in his parent's faces, accepting that this was too strange for a dream, when a loud voice pulled him down to earth.

"You like those, don't you Harry, we had them done in Diagon Ally, off some old photos we had lying around. We wanted to acknowledge our noble wizarding family and preserve their memory,'' said Uncle Vernon with a hint of sorrow in his voice.

"How about those spells then", a deep voice grunted. Harry turned around with a start to face Dudley Dursley. It seemed that without school knickerbockers to worry about, Aunt Petunia had made up for the diet by feeding him more than she ever had in her life. Dudley was slumped into a gigantic armchair in front of the television set, his mountainous folds of flesh oozing over the sides. Taking no notice of their son's pathetic state, his beaming parents

arduously pushed the armchair into the centre of the kitchen, before settling into kitchen chairs to watch.

"Er… okay then", Harry mumbled. He proceeded to demonstrate several simple spells for his adopted family. Instead of the looks of horror he would have expected from the Dursleys, his incantations were greeted with admiration and applause. After his "show" was over, Aunt Petunia jumped from the chair she had been perched on, and laid a hand on Dudley's massive robed shoulder. The robe, Harry noticed, seemed to have been fashioned from a five person tent.

"Just wait, Dinkeydums, soon you'll be able to do all those fancy spells"' she squealed.

Harry had not moved since casting his last charm. Slowly he lowered his wand.

"I had better be going now", he said, to no one in particular. And with one last look around the now stone-walled, shag carpeted kitchen and his parent's encouraging faces, he swept from the room, once again wondering if the whole world had gone mad.

**A/N: There's the first chapter of that. This story is actually something I've been working on since the release of the sixth book, as a joke for my friend. I have several chapters completed, but not typed. They will be on the way shortly.**

**Hope you enjoyed it and sorry if it destroys your image of Harry Potter. Reviews would be appreciated!**


	2. A Star is Born

**Disclaimer: As I have mentioned before, Harry Potter is not owned by me. **

A STAR IS BORN

Upon leaving the Dursley's, Harry had strapped his trunk to his broom and flown off to the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Though he tried not to show it, he suspected that this wedding was to be the last normal event of his life until either he or Voldemort was dead.

Harry spent the rest the afternoon and most of the night flying. It seemed that, having never actually flown to the Burrow by himself, he had no idea how to get there. Six hours after setting out, he had to swallow his pride and ask directions from a wizard on a broom he passed in mid-air. Fortunately, this wizard had some idea of the general direction of the Burrow, for he was none other than Mundungus.

Mundungus seemed to be wearing clothes sewn from canvas sacks. His hair's ginger colour wasn't even visible under the dirt matted in it. His eyes seemed a little unfocused and was acting slightly drowsy.

"Er…Dung, shouldn't you be heading to the wedding?" Harry inquired after listening to Mundungus's directions.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I should be…" Mundungus murmured in between yawns. Then he began to mutter something about needing a suit and being out all night before zooming off into the night.

Harry found the burrow without too much difficulty just ads the first rays of sun peeked over the horizon. His feet had only just touched the patchy lawn when several red-haired persons bounded across the grass to meet him.

"Harry!" Ginny cried, throwing her arms around her neck and kissing him (Ron looked away). Harry, however, was too tired to react. Indeed, it took him several minutes to realize that a certain bushy-haired person was missing.

"Ron, where's Hermione?" Harry asked when the greetings subsided. Ron looked confused.

"I dunno, she was supposed to come straight here from the train, but we got separated. I did send Errol with a letter to her." He added.

The Weasley children and Harry simultaneously rolled their eyes. Errol was ancient, and would serve greater purpose as a dust mop than a letter owl.

As if on cue, what appeared to be a muggle ambulance came barrelling down the road. Ron swore and began running to meet it. Feeling bewildered, Harry followed.

"What's wrong?" Harry panted. He could barely keep up with Ron's long strides.

"Owl Rescue Squad" Ron yelled over his shoulder before sprinting the rest of the way to the van.

By the time Harry reached the vehicle, Ron was already talking to witches and a wizard in clean white robes. Behind them lay Errol, flopped onto a bed and surrounded by more witches and strange looking magical implements.

"…need to keep him for a few more days. We'll bring him back when he's ready." concluded the wizard. He handed Ron a white envelope and climbed back into the van with the witches, then drove off again. Even from several feet away, Harry could distinguish Hermione's neat handwriting on the envelope.

"What's going on?" Harry asked with concern.

"Poor Errol's delivered his last letter." Ron replied remorsefully," He was too old to cover that distance. I never should've used him."

"What about Pig?"

"They've got him too." Ron sighed," That's the Owl Rescue Squad that just picked Errol up. They take care of stranded and injured owls; they're a part of the Owl Squad, who are in charge of all things to do with owls. The Owl Squad's checking Pig to figure out why he's so…you know…"

Harry was spared a response due to the fact that he was too busy being greeted by Mrs. Weasley, who had dashed unseen from the house toward him.

"Harry, dear, it's so good to see you! She cried, sweeping him into a hug. By the time she released him, Harry was severely winded and not altogether sure that his ribs were entirely intact.

The Weasleys began leading him to the house. All but one.

Harry turned around when he realized that Ron had not moved. He was rooted to the spot, staring at the opened letter in his hand with amazement.

Harry broke away from the Weasleys and went over to Ron, who handed him the letter without a word. As Harry had thought, it was from Hermione and read:

_Dear Ron (and Harry if you're there), _

_I'm afraid I'm not going to arrive until sometime next week, probably on the day before the wedding. I've taken up as a punk rock superstar, and of course I'm the president of the newly founded S.P.E.W. foundation. I'm about to do a charity concert for S.P.E.W., and then attending the conference of all members. We're just over a hundred members! After that I'm afraid I'll have to resign as president, because I'll be far too busy touring. If you watch the new Wizarding Music Network, you'll probably see me. I wish you all the best of times while I'm gone._

_Your friend,_

_Hermione_

_P.S. Errol was looking a bit ill when he arrived. You really should've sent Pigwidgeon, Ron._

When Harry finished reading the letter he shared a look of pure amazement with Ron. Ron finally broke the silence.

"A punk rocker? Her?"

"I didn't know she could sing." came Harry's stunned reply.

"Over a hundred members? Of S.P.E.W.?" Ron babbled.

"Who knew there were nutters like her in the world?" Harry agreed.

"Whatcha got there, Ron, letter from your girlfriend?" Fred teased as he snatched the letter from Ron's grasp.

"None of your beeswax." Ron growled. He tried to grab the letter from Fred, but failed miserably and Fred triumphantly held the letter out of Ron's reach.

But as the twins read the letter, their grins slowly receded. By the time they were finished, they were asking the same questions the Harry and Ron had.

"Has she lost her mind?" Fred wondered.

"Let's put on the Wizarding Music Network and find out." George grinned.

Soon the five friends had burst through the door, dashed to the living room and were settled around the television set.

"Which channel?" Harry asked.

"267 ½" Ginny answered. Harry, who by now was accustomed to al the strange things in the wizarding world, did not bother to ask how this was possible.

Before long, Ginny had located the correct channel and they watched in silence as a strange woman with blue hair and jewellery in strange places trooped onstage and began to belt out a punk rock anthem. Harry watched her for a moment, then his mind returned to Hermione. _'What if fame's changed her?' _came his panicked thoughts _'What if she abandons us for her new career?'_

Once again, Harry was rudely interrupted from his thoughts as the blue haired lady marched offstage and the host of the show came forward.

"That was Hermione Granger, everybody. What a voice! I'm sure we'll hear more from her. Next up, please welcome…"

Harry didn't hear what the host said next. All he heard was his own scream. And Ginny's scream. And Ron's scream. And the twin's screams. They screamed without stopping even for air. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley ran in to see what was the matter, but of course, no one stopped to explain that Hermione had transformed into a scary punk girl. About five minutes later, when they had all begun to turn blue, several more people entered the room. Unfortunately, Harry couldn't identify any of them, having lost the ability to think after three and a half minutes without oxygen.

Shortly after these people came in, Harry and his friends passed out.

A/N: There's the second chapter of that. Hope you're enjoying this, even though I may be murdering the story as I go along. But nonetheless, please review. Please? You know you want to. 


	3. A Wonderful Wedding

**Disclaimer: Seeing as how I am writing this from an average, middle-class home, I am obviously not the author of Harry Potter.**

A WONDERFUL WEDDING

When Harry woke up, he realized that he was in a bed, and for one blissful moment he couldn't remember how he got there. Quickly enough, though, everything came rushing back to him. Harry shut his eyes to try to block everything out, but he wasn't quick enough. Mrs. Weasley burst into the room, and seeing Harry awake, began to make a fuss.

"Harry, you stay right there and I'll go fix you breakfast." she declared as she bustled out of the room.

Harry, who was still feeling limp from shock, did not protest, but slumped back down into bed.

By noon that day, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George were all back to normal and seemed none the worse for their loss of brain cells. None of them mentioned Hermione, and Harry was unsure of what would happen when she arrived.

Several guests were already at the burrow, including Tonks, Kingsley Shaklebolt, Professor McGonagall and Neville, who had brought his grandmother along. Lupin was waiting out the full moon, and scheduled to arrive sometime over the weekend. Hermione, of course, was supposed to be there on Tuesday, the day before the wedding. No one knew when Mundungus would turn up.

Harry spent a few blissful days without any worries, until he realized that, sometime between Dumbledore's funeral and now, something had attempted to eat his dress robes and had largely succeeded. What was left of them now was unrecognizable. They were too shabby even to be dish towels. Looking at the calendar, however, Harry relaxed. It was only Saturday; he had three entire days to get down to Diagon Alley for new ones.

The next day, Harry decided that he may as well get his shopping trip over with. After lunch, he kindled a fire in the fireplace and reached into the dusty flowerpot on the mantle. Harry drew out a handful of Floo powder and got ready to leave. He knew what to do. He tossed the powder into the fire and said "Diagon Alley", just as they always did. But when he stepped into the fire, something went horribly wrong.

Instead of spinning in to proper grate, he stayed right where he was, in the fire. Harry smelled something burning, and peered through the smoke to look down at his robes. He was on fire!

By now the flames were starting to engulf the bottom of his robes, and his skin had begun to sting in places. With a yelp, he tumbled backwards out of the fireplace and into the living room, rolling around and searching for his wand. Mrs Weasley heard the commotion as he tried desperately to put himself out, and she ran into the room with a scream. Fire lacquer shot out the end of her wand, thoroughly dousing Harry, the fireplace and most everything that was in the room. Harry swam gratefully over to Mrs. Weasley, who insisted on treating his burns before cleaning up the living room.

Harry was, yet again, confused. Why hadn't he been transported to Diagon Ally? Maybe Floo Powder didn't work after you learned to Apparate (which, due to new enchantments on and around the burrow, he couldn't do). But no, that couldn't be it, Mr. And Mrs. Weasley could do both.

He was still pondering this problem when Ron shouted for him to come to the TV. The moment he looked at the screen, he knew.

The TV. was tuned to a news broadcast, and Harry could see a hassled news reporter standing in a barren field of ash and rubble. He began to speak.

"Today, hundreds of witches and wizards were burned in their fireplace while attempting to reach Diagon Alley. Hundreds more Apparated, only to become confused when they arrived at their destination. But what you see behind you really is Diagon Alley. Earlier this morning an unidentified terrorist bombed the area from a Muggle aeroplane. Rescue workers are currently picking through the rubble, desperately searching for survivors. It may take months, even years to restore this once-thriving area. Even then, we can never replace the history we have lost. This is a grim moment in wizarding history indeed."

With that, the reporter signed off and the camera proceeded to pan across the area. All that remained of the beautiful street and shops were blackened wood fragments, melted blobs of glass and thick, dark ash. The only building that had managed to remain standing was Gringotts Bank, and even that was a mess with it's elegant marble cracked and smashed.

Looking at the ruins of where he and his friends had spent time and enjoyed themselves, Harry felt a wall of emotions overpowering him. He was sad, to see a place he thought he could depend on destroyed, and anger at whoever had done such a terrible deed. These mixed feelings left Harry with a bad taste in his mouth, so he decided to go find something to eat that would fix that.

As he was rummaging through the Weasley's pantry, he came across some strange metal cylinders. The sides were marked with the word "Cola". On top, Harry could see a small tab. Since almost everything in the Weasley's house was magical, Harry assumed that these would be too. Indeed, Harry, having been raised in a health-obsessed family, had never seen anything like these before. Since he couldn't figure out how to manually open it, he gingerly tapped it with his wand.

The can instantly exploded. A strange brown liquid flew everywhere, and gave him a strange fizzing sensation where it touched his skin. Harry panicked thinking that it was some sort of acid or magical substance and that he was going to die. Three minutes later he was still not dead, but since Harry was already rampantly morbid and depressed at this point and figured that he would die at any time. He stopped screaming, concluded that he was having a terrible day and did what seemed logical to him. Raising his wand to his head, he was unconscious before he heard himself say "stupefy".

Harry woke to find a shabby-looking Lupin sitting beside his bed. Harry sat up slowly, blinking and looked around for his glasses. Meanwhile, Lupin began unwrapping a large amount of chocolate, and as Harry was force-fed piece upon piece of the candy, Lupin filled Harry in on everything he had missed while he was unconscious.

Harry soon learned that he had been out cold for several days since his attempted suicide. Mrs. Weasley had heard the explosion and found him lying on the floor. The spell he had hit himself with was too strong for her to lift, so he had been carried off to bed to recover. It was now Monday, and there was only one day until the wedding.

Lupin left to fetch yet more chocolate and Harry sat in bed, feeling the chocolate hardening his arteries and trying to recall everything that had happened the previous Saturday. Dress robes….fire…..bombing….acid. Bill and Fleur's wedding was tomorrow, his dress robes were a wreck and he had no idea where Hermione was.

As though on cue, Hermione had appeared in the doorway. Harry heard a scream and then his vision was obscured by a large quantity of very bushy blue hair.

"Harry, I've missed you so much!" she exclaimed.

"When did you get here?" replied Harry.

Hermione drew back and checked her watch, "Five seconds ago."

"How…" Harry began, but he was cut off.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Hermione assured him ,"Have you seen Ron anywhere?"

"I've only been conscious for 10 minutes, how should I…" Harry started to reply, but was again interrupted.

"Okay, bye." said Hermione, dashing from the room. Harry was let alone once again with his own thoughts. He thought about ribbons. He thought about tags. He though about packages, boxes and bags. He thought about not quoting other stories at random anymore.

Harry simply lay in his bed, trying to digest all of what had just happened. Finally, mustering up all his strength, he rose from the bed and went to prepare for the wedding.

**A/N. There's my thrd chapter. I am aware that the real conclusion to the series has since come out, and that my story contradicts that one. This is fan fiction. Besides, this particular fan fictionhas been written for a long time. I am simply too lazt to actually type it. **

**Reviews would be fantastic. **


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